


Taking Derek for a walk

by Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Series: The places Stiles takes Derek [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: Stiles takes Derek for an early morning walk.  Although it might not be what you think.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by 2 things:  
> 1) the last episode of Season 4  
> 2) all the nice compliments and kudos that readers left for my other fics "When nobody knows you exist" and "Within Reach"
> 
> Feedback makes me VERY happy and motivates me to write more Stiles/Derek. :)

“Would you please – for the love of Yoda – _hurry up_!” Stiles nervously bounced up and down onto the balls of his feet, looking this way and that to make sure that the park was still deserted. At 5:20 a.m. no one in their right mind would dare to traipse into such a secluded area that was surrounded on three sides but nothing but trees and shadows. It wasn’t a particularly safe neighborhood during the regular hours of the day, never mind at the crack of dawn.

 

“Who is Yoda?” Derek asked in total and utter ignorance, shrugging out of his black leather jacket, which Stiles took by the sleeves and stretched open in front of his wolf like a shield.

 

“What is with you werewolves and your disrespect towards the greatest sci-fi movie, like _ever_?!” Stiles held the jacket in place and continued to conduct a 360-degree check of the park with his amber-brown eyes and twisting neck.

 

Big innocent sea-green eyes met mischievous amber-brown as Derek looked at Stiles before draping his black t-shirt over his lover’s outstretched arm. “I honestly don’t know what you’re getting so upset about. I told you that I don’t watch TV.”

 

“It’s not TV, Derek. It’s a movie. A freaking _Hollywood_ movie. Who doesn’t watch Hollywood movies?”

 

Derek grinned smugly up at Stiles as he worked his broken-in jeans down his toned legs, followed by his form-fitting black boxer-briefs, straightening up again to place everything onto the same arm that he’d slung the t-shirt over. “Werewolves don’t,” he replied cheekily as he kicked off his sneakers and glanced at the waning impression of the moon in the sky, soon to be replaced by the rising sun. When Stiles’ only response was to gape at Derek in perverted delight, the wolf grew serious again. “You’re drooling.”

 

“Yeah, so? Drooling is legal. But your sexy ass is _sooo_ prohibited.” Dropping Derek’s jacket to waist level so that any lucky passersby wouldn’t catch so much as a glimpse of his manly parts, Stiles slid one hand down Derek’s flank and up again to the small of his back. “We could just… oh, I don’t know… _do it_ right here. I mean, the possibilities are endless. There’s the grass…”

 

“Stiles, it’s wet. And cold,” Derek protested.

 

“Alright. But how about the bench over there?”

 

“Who’s going to be on the bottom?”

 

To that question, Stiles snickered evilly. “Who is _always_ on the bottom?”

 

Derek blushed but kept his thick dark eyebrows locked together in a show of dismay. “I’m not getting splinters in my ass, even if it will probably be worth it for the first five minutes.”

 

“Aww, my poor wolf is afraid of splinters,” Stiles teased in the irritatingly mocking tone that he used on Derek when the wolf wouldn’t cooperate. “How about the slide? It looks dry. There’s no shrapnel. And we’ll have the advantage of working with an inclined plane.”

 

“I don’t see how an inclined plane would be advantageous to… oh. Oh! _Oh_..” Derek turned positively beet red as he followed Stiles’ lecherous train of thought. “That’s perverted. Even for you.”

 

“What can I say? I’m a terribly repressed teenager who is at the apex of his sexual existence. It’ll be all downhill in a couple of years, so I’m trying to make the best of what I have now.” Stiles slapped both of his greedy hands onto Derek’s naked ass and attempted to ply him with hot and sexy kisses. Wet kisses with a lot of tongue action and an easily manipulated wolf. “How about that slide?” Stiles watched his wolf begin to lose control, moving closer for another sweet kiss… when he stopped, displaying an admirable amount of restraint.

 

“Stiles, no. I need to work off my aggression. You’re the reason why I’m dying to shift right now. If you had just let me out during the full moon…”

 

“Okay, _okay._ It’s my fault for being a horny bastard and chaining you to the bed so that I could do whatever to you last night. I just didn’t want you running around on a full moon while there are hunters still on the loose.” Stiles sighed and flicked his wrist in the general direction of the woods on the far end of the park. “Run along and play then. But make sure you come back within twenty minutes or I’m coming after you with a dog whistle.”

 

With a relieved smile, Derek shifted into a sleek ebony wolf, complete with a semi-long glossy coat that he’d grown in preparation for the winter. It was still mid-fall, so not too cold, but cool enough to benefit from the extra insulation. Stiles had been surprised when he’d first seen the outcome of Derek’s full shift. He’d been expecting a hefty looking monster with bulky muscles and exaggerated features, which would have made Derek look a lot more ferocious. But, as it turned out, wolves were basically the same size as dogs, and Derek didn’t have any special physical attributes that stood out as a wolf. Except for his mystical werewolf-blue eyes.

 

“Remember. Twenty minutes,” Stiles hollered after the retreating form of his agile lover. “And don’t come back with rabies!”

 

Derek padded quickly – but carefully – over the gravel-covered playground area, and bounded joyfully onto the glistening grass. He pawed at the ground for a moment and buried his muzzle into a patch of dandelions, inhaling deeply. His head jerked up again as he gazed over at Stiles, yipped in delight, and took off racing into the woods.

 

“What kind of breed is he?”

 

“ _EEYYAAA!!_ ” Stiles let out a girly scream and jumped away from the unexpected voice with both arms held tight to his body. When his brain caught up with his eyesight, he realized that he’d been startled by a girl about his age, dressed in a tracksuit, who was walking her dog. “Geez, give a guy a bit of warning before you do that! Do you know how many murders there have been in this park?”

 

The petite blond gave Stiles a withering glare before speaking again. “I had no idea that a girl my size could be capable of murdering a guy your size,” she said sarcastically. “And I only asked you what breed your dog is. A completely harmless question.”

 

“Huh? My dog? I don’t have a dog.”

 

“What do you mean you don’t have a dog? I saw you with a black dog just a few seconds ago. It took off that way.” She pointed in the direction where Stiles had last seen Derek and started to look put off.

 

“Oh! _That_ dog. But he’s not really a dog. He’s more of a wolf-dog.”

 

“Which is still a dog,” she insisted.

 

“Okay, fine. Whatever makes you happy.”

 

“This is Croissant, my French poodle.”

 

Stiles nodded but showed absolutely no interest in the cream colored French poodle that was beginning to scent mark the swings, before moving onto the slide. That was just so wrong! Stiles could never make out with Derek on that slide now.

 

“My name is Maggie,” the girl introduced herself, not taking the hint that Stiles was not in a conversational mood. He’d spent the whole night doing his own scent marking, all over Derek, although definitely not in the traditional animal way, so he felt like a member of the walking dead. His body hurt, his head hurt. Hell, even Little Stiles Jr. – the name that he had affectionately given his other self – was feeling overused. He had zero interest in talking with Maggie about her dog, unless the bite-sized poodle was edible or came with a built-in caffeine dispenser.

 

“Stiles,” he offered in return, and nothing more.

 

“What’s your dog’s name?”

 

“My _wolf’s_ name is Derek,” Stiles corrected her, knowing that his lover would have a fit if he heard someone calling him a dog.

 

“You’re not afraid that he might run away?”

 

“Who? Derek?” Stiles scoffed loudly. “He’s _my_ wolf. Why would he leave me?”

 

“I don’t know. He didn’t have a collar, and you don’t have a leash for him, so I was just wondering…”

 

“Your ball of fluff isn’t on a leash either,” Stiles pointed out.

 

“She’ll come back after she’s done her business.”

 

 _Ewww! Thank the heavens that I don’t have a real dog!_ Stiles just wasn’t an active participant when it came to looking after pets. Coming to the park in the dead hours of the morning to protect Derek from hunters was one thing, but there was no way he’d ever do it to pick up after a normal dog. He was too lazy and easily grossed out for that.

 

“Hey! Your dog came back,” Maggie announced, drawing Stiles’ attention to the beautiful glossy wolf that was warily reentering the playground, his eyes scanning the stranger in distrust. “I’ve never seen a dog with such striking blue eyes before. They’re almost luminescent.”

 

 _No. They actually are luminescent_ , Stiles thought to himself in annoyance. Thankfully this girl seemed to know nothing about dog breeds because she didn’t scream or call the center for animal control to report a wild wolf on the prowl. “Yeah, he has a rare genetic disorder that causes the light to reflect off of them,” Stiles bullshitted. “Come here, Derek. Let’s go home,” he called to his wolf.

 

“Whose clothes?” Maggie asked, referring to the pile of black garments that Stiles was holding onto, along with the black sneakers.

 

“Uh… I like to change… after I go for a run. These are mine.”

 

“You run in your regular street clothes?” Maggie looked suspicious for a moment, probably wondering how Stiles could run in the plaid shirt that he’d worn over his t-shirt without doing up the buttons, or his jeans that needed to be altered because they were dragging along the ground. But then she latched onto Stiles’ arm and pulled him over to the bench. “I want to show you some pictures of Croissant at the dog competition I entered her in this summer. You should consider entering Derek in one. He could do with a grooming and some training on posture, but I’m sure that he would win.”

 

 _Oh sure. Train Derek._ That was something that was so not happening. And who was this overly pushy girl? Stiles couldn’t care less about Croissant or some boring dog show. And judging by the way Derek was ripping up the bottoms of his jeans with those untrimmed claws of his, neither did his wolf.

 

Maggie suddenly stopped pulling Stiles and reached into her purse. “I completely forgot.”

 

“Forgot what?”

 

“To reward Croissant for not running away.” Pulling an unwrapped piece of beef jerky from her purse, Maggie presented it to Croissant, praising her when she finished it off. “And I have an extra piece for your dog. Here you go, Derek.” She shoved the hard piece of dried beef in Derek’s face unexpectedly, giving him no choice but to chomp on it or risk losing an eye.

 

Stiles cringed on behalf of Derek, catching the indignant glare of blue that promised a swift and painful retribution. And, as soon as Maggie’s back was turned, Derek hacked up the piece of beef jerky, munched on a mouthful of grass to clean his palate, and hacked that up too. “I hope you _never_ do that at the dinner table,” Stiles hissed at Derek, earning himself a vicious snarl in reply.

 

“Here, sit. I’ve got the pictures on my computer synced with my cell, so it’ll just take a second to load.”

 

Stiles grumbled under his breath and sat down on the bench, putting one whole person space between them. And just in case Maggie were to think about scooting closer, Stiles dropped Derek’s clothing down onto the bench to act as a barrier. He caught the well-trained poodle staring up at him in a spine-popping straight pose and could do nothing but glare back at it.

 

“ _Oof!”_ Stiles had the air knocked out of him when a blur of ebony leapt up into his lap, landing with all four paws on his thighs, and a flash of a bushy tail whacked him in the face. “Derek! Your paws are all muddy!” Stiles shrieked, feeling the cold, wet impressions of his wolf’s paw pads kneading into his jeans.

 

“Your dog seriously needs to be trained,” Maggie advised disapprovingly. “Croissant would _never_ jump on me like that.”

 

“I might take your advice into consideration,” Stiles agreed when Derek scuffed up his jeans some more, before finally settling down. Before Stiles could warn Derek to get off, the wolf let out a low whine, flopped down onto his lap, tail swishing, and raised his head to look mournfully up at him. “You’re only getting away with this because you’re so damn adorable.” Stiles placed his hand on top of Derek’s head and sighed when a gleeful tremor buzzed through him. _Soft…_ His mind went numb as he began to pet Derek, stroking his hand over and through the silky soft black fur in a sort of trance. Soon he began to feel a sort of rumbling in Derek’s throat, like a wolfish purr, that just kept getting louder the longer Stiles stroked him. He was like a warm bundle of furry ebony wolf, and Stiles really loved his furry purring wolf.

 

“See! And this is when Croissant won the Best Behaved Dog Award,” Maggie said as she proudly showed Stiles picture number ninety-six. Thankfully Stiles had blissfully zoned out around picture three, making it easy to pleasantly nod and make a sound of encouragement.

 

_Dog shows? No thanks. Soft, furry Derek? Yes, please!_

“And Croissant can even walk on her back legs and carry tea cups.”

 

Oh no. Had they moved onto talent shows now? “You know, it’s been fun, Maggie. But I’ve really got to get going. I need to take Derek to the vet for his shots.”

 

“Wait, please. Just a few more minutes. I want to show you what Croissant can do!”

 

Stiles shivered all over and giggled like a schoolgirl when a soft, wet tongue began to lick the open palm of his hand. “Derek… what the f--?” _Girl present. Don’t use the F word._ “Stop that!” But Derek wouldn’t stop until Stiles gave him his full attention, and saw the determined glint in his eye. Judging by the way Derek jerked his head in Croissant’s direction, Stiles could tell that his wolf was not about to let himself be outdone by that ball of fluff. “Okay,” he whispered in Derek’s twitching ear. “But don’t do anything stupid like talk in a human voice.” Then to Maggie, he said. “My wolf can do awesome things, too!”

 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” She asked, sounding amused, like she didn’t believe that a wolf as misbehaved as Derek could possibly do anything out of the ordinary.

 

 _That’s what I’d like to know._ “I’ll let him surprise you.” Stiles let out a yelp when Derek leapt off of him, using his right thigh as a springboard. As soon as Derek landed gracefully on the ground, he sprang off again, tearing into the circle of the playground. From there, he leapt over the jungle gym, which was six and a half feet high, and eight feet long, scrambled up the stairs to the slide only to fly off the platform, sail over the slide itself, and come to a brief rest in the sand in front of it. And then, tail wagging, Derek hopped onto the spinning tire, snagged the attached rope with his claws, and climbed up that too. _Fuck! Dogs shouldn’t be able to do that._ Forget dogs. Stiles couldn’t even do that. And risking a sharp glance at Maggie, he didn’t think she thought that dogs should be able to do that either.

 

“What the fuck?!” Maggie gasped when Derek jumped onto the swing, his momentum propelling him high into the air. His tongue was hanging out, he was howling, and looked to be enormously enjoying himself.

 

“Derek!” Stiles shouted, slapping his thigh urgently to get his wolf’s attention. “Time for the vet! NOW!”

 

Derek reacted to Stiles’ command, pouncing off of the swing and slowly stalking over to his lover. His movements were slow and sulky, his tail tucked between his legs, and his whimpering apologetic.

 

“Well, see you around, Maggie.” _Hopefully never!_ Stiles left the girl freaked out of her mind, and the tiny poodle cowering in her purse. As Stiles stormed over to his jeep, he muttered at Derek who was looking so dejected at his heels. “Are you trying to get yourself captured by hunters or sold to a circus? What the fuck was that?” But Derek could only whine because he actually wasn’t capable of speaking in his full wolf form yet. Stiles threw open the passenger’s side door and swung his arm up, gesturing for his wolf to get in. “And don’t you dare shift in the middle of the parking lot! She’s still watching us.”

 

Again, Derek whimpered and sprang onto the passenger’s side seat, where he curled up and hid his face under his fluffy tail.

 

Stiles closed the door and went around to the driver’s side. He tossed Derek’s clothes onto the backseat, started up the engine, and hastily left the park behind. “Well, now we’re going to have to find a new park to take you to,” he scolded Derek. “And the next one probably won’t have so many nice trees. Or grass that hasn’t been sprayed with pesticides. What the hell were you thinking? You _flew_ over a jungle gym for fuck’s sakes! Literally _flew_!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“ _Waaaa!_ ” Stiles shrieked and nearly lost control of the vehicle when Derek suddenly shifted and began to speak. “You nearly made me run over a squirrel!”

 

“Because I couldn’t keep whimpering ‘sorry’ to your deaf human ears. How many times do you need me to apologize? I got carried away.” Derek sat there, huddled against the door and away from Stiles. “She compared me to a poodle, Stiles. A _poodle_!”

 

“Poor jealous wolf,” Stiles said mockingly. “To be compared to an innocent little poodle.”

 

“Shut up, Stiles.”

 

“You really don’t scare me when you’re all naked and covered in goosebumps.” Stiles took his right hand off of the wheel and used it to caress Derek’s side, moving down to his hip, and then his thigh. “I’m going to pull over in a bit so you can get dressed. I don’t think you want to be charged with indecent exposure. Although there’s nothing indecent, and everything yummy, about your sexy body.”

 

Derek mumbled something about being embarrassed with Stiles sexually harassing him, but contradicted himself by moving closer to encourage his lover’s desirous touch.

 

“Derek,” Stiles cleared his throat, a sign that he was about to delve into a taboo subject. “Do you think you can, you know, maybe shift inside the loft?”

 

“What for? There isn’t enough space to run around in there.” Derek covered Stiles’ hand with his own, preventing it from sliding between his thighs. “You lecture me about public indecency when you’re perfectly fine with fondling me on a public road?”

 

“Fondling is such an erotic word, Derek. Say it again and I will fondle away," Stiles promised.

 

Derek sighed, giving up on trying to contain his lover’s raging hormones. “Why do you want me to shift in the loft?”

 

“Because, you’re so _furry_ and _soft_ ,” Stiles drawled as he pulled to the side of the road, hiding the jeep behind a cluster of bushes. “I could just sit there and pet you for hours.” _And you would like it_ , he thought when he felt Derek shiver all over, and not from the cold. “What do you say? We could make Friday nights wolf nights. I’ll bet that your fur smells good, too. I just want to wrap myself around your soft, furry body and breathe in your pine-fresh wolfish scent. Is there anything wrong with that?” Putting the jeep into park, he held off on handing Derek his clothes, waiting for an answer to his request first.

 

A seriously flustered Derek had both hands covering his crotch from Stiles’ lustful gaze and his cheeks were such a lovely shade of dark rose that he looked good enough to eat. “Fine. Okay, already. I’ll shift on Friday nights. Can I have my clothes back now?”

 

“Since you were such a good wolf, you can have everything except for your shirt.”

 

“Why can’t I have my shirt back?”

 

“Because I need something pretty to look at on the way home to keep myself awake. If you put your shirt back on, I guarantee that I’m going to wrap the jeep around a tree.”

 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Derek asked in helpless frustration.

 

“Love me forever,” Stiles said with a dreamy sigh.

 

“That, I can do,” Derek replied with a soft smile.


End file.
